


First Taste

by Saho07



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M, Vampire Thranduil, human bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saho07/pseuds/Saho07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after The Battle Of The Five Armies. Thranduil has dealt with the taint in his veins for over 2000 years. In all that time not once did he succumb to temptation, not until the Bowman appeared. Will this stranger from Lake Town stand a chance against Thranduil's hunger? Or will he fall victim to a deadly secret? Vamp Thranduil X Human Bard. Warning: MALE X MALE. Sex and blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Aftermath

In Middle Earth a wide variety of creatures exist. There are the more commonly known such as orcs, wargs, and trolls. But there are some that few know about and even fewer have seen. Creatures like werewolves, shapeshifters, and vampires. It was almost 2000 years ago that Thranduil had met some of these creatures, but it was the vampires he will never forget. For it was in that one incident that his life had been changed forever. 

Thranduil walked aimlessly amongst the bodies of fallen elves, orcs, and men. The elf in him couldn’t stand the sight of the dead, but the monster in him cried out for more. Closing his eyes the elven king turned away and headed back the way he came. He could see the large arch leading out of Dale and the corpse of his beloved mount just in front of it. Thranduil paused a moment, trying to find the strength to move past the elk's body, when he hears a small whine. His eyes fly open desperately searching the area for the source of life. He hears it again, only some what louder, and his heart races in his ears. The elven king rushes forward and collapses down beside the elks massive head. He looks and the elk looks back at him, eyes pleading for help. Thranduil's heart soars with delight. He hadn’t truly lost his great companion after all. Thranduil calls for his men and they help the elven king lift the elk onto a cart. Healers ride along with the creature, slowly tending to his wounds, as two horses led by elves pull the cart out of Dale and back home to Mirkwood. Thranduil watched them go as the Bowman approached. He could smell the man’s scent long before he ever saw him. It was that scent which nearly broke him the moment the Dragon Slayer walked towards him the other day in Dale. It was stronger now, the rush of battle still lingering in his veins. Thranduil steadied himself. He had not feasted upon a human for over a thousand years and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the human’s soft flesh. 

“My lord Thranduil. My people and I appreciate the aid you have given us. If we can ever return the favor please do not hesitate to call upon us here in Dale.”

The man was too close, far to close now. True they had been standing this close in his tent but now, with the rush of battle and the scent of the freshly slain lingering around him, all of it seemed to be too much. Thranduil swallowed thickly, averting his gaze. He needed to leave and he needed to do it now. Nodding a quick agreement and farwell Thranduil strode swiftly out of dale, down the large walkway, and towards the horse waiting for him. The Bowman called after him, attempting to keep up with the fleeing king, but in the end he was no match. By the time he made it to the bottom of the walkway Thranduil was already mounted and heading back to Mirkwood. The Bowman sighed heavily and returned to aiding his people in the mass clean up. Thranduil slowly steadied his breathing as he rode back to his kingdom. He thought about his condition and about how the only other being who knew of it, his beloved son, was out there now exploring middle earth. Never in his life had the elven king felt so utterly vulnerable and alone. He rode onward, lost in his thoughts, until he was standing before the large twin doors of his home. Servants came and led the horse away. Thranduil walk the quiet halls ending up in his throne room. Sellion, his right hand, was there waiting for him. 

“Welcome back my King. I am happy to see that you returned home unharmed.”

Thranduil continued walking, heading for his private quarters. Sillion followed close behind. 

“The realm has been quiet since your departure. No sight of orc or spider.”

“Good. Prepare a late dinner for me and bring it up to my room. I wish to be left alone for the time being.”

They had reached Thranduil’s quarters just as the elven king finished giving his commands. Sellion nodded, returning the way they had just came, while Thranduil pushed open the doors to his room and strode inside. The double wood and glass doors closing softly behind him. The elven king sighed heavily. Now in the privacy of his own rooms, slowly he let his kingly demeanor slip away, revealing his overwhelming sorrow and complete exhaustion. Thranduil turned away from the door and walked further into his room, slipping his armor and robes off as he went. Pushing open a single wood and glass door the elven king was greeted by the sight of a warm steaming bath. The water flowed down the etched wall and into the large pool, the pooling water glowed slightly from the fire stones that heated it. Thranduil slowly stepped down into the water, sat down on the first landing, then laid his head back on the stone floor. The water lapped quietly at his chest. The warm water felt blissful on his aching muscles causing the elven king to sigh contently. After some time Thranduil quickly washed up then left the bath. Wrapping up in a simple robe he returned to his bedroom. Food had been brought while he was bathing. The elven king quickly ate, tossed his robe aside, then climbed into the large bed and fell quickly asleep.


	2. Waking Nightmare

Bard stood, quietly waiting in the great throne room of the elven king Thranduil. It had taken almost all day to reach the elven king’s great halls, but in the end it was worth it. He glanced around at the sheer beauty and vast expanse of walkways before him. Never had he seen it’s equal in any kingdom. The elf whom he had met before returned and gestured for him to follow. 

“My king will see you in his study.”

Bard followed the elf down a series of paths, walkways, and halls until he was led to a set of large wood doors with glass inlay. The elf held a door open for him as he walked inside. The room was small and simple but held a large quantity of books, papers, and writing equipment. In the center sat a large circular table with four chairs. In the chair closest to the door with his back facing the Bowman sat Thranduil. The elf announced Bard to the elven king who, with a wave of his hand, dismissed his servant. The elf turned and left, shutting the large doors behind him. Bard stood by the doors looking some what unsure of how to proceed. Thranduil gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs at the table. The huntsman sat down to the elven king’s right and took a small shaky breath. 

“I am most honored you agreed to see me. I came here to speak with you of establishing a trading agreement between our people.” 

Thranduil nodded quietly. “Yes, I am told that congratulations are in order. Not only did you kill the dragon, but now you have received the honor of becoming the king of Dale. I would be happy to establish trade with you and your people.” 

Bard nodded and smiled happily. 

“Thank you my lord. I will begin drawing up a trading agreement at once.” 

Bard rose to leave but paused as Thranduil slid over some parchment with a bottle of ink and a quil. 

“It is almost dark outside and these woods can become rather treacherous at night. Why not stay here and in the morning set out? We could debate and draw up the contract in the mean time.”

“That is most kind of you my lord but I couldn’t possibly impose on you in such a way.”

Thranduil smiled softly and leaned back in his chair. 

“It is no imposition I assure you.”

“I would be most honored my lord but my children are waiting for me and I do not wish to worry them.”

“I’m afraid now I really must insist. How would they feel if you left my company this night and died on the road between our two kingdoms? And your people would naturally blame me for your death as I had not stopped you from venturing out of my halls. No, for the sake of your people and your beloved children, you must stay.” 

With that Thranduil picked up his quill and went back to his writings. Bard sat still for a moment mulling things over in his mind. He didn’t really want to stay but what choice did he have? His children would understand and they were safe with the other people of his newly formed kingdom. So, putting all of those thoughts aside, Bard got to work on the contract. Time flew by and soon it was well past midnight. The contract had been drafted and redrafted at least four times. Bard sat working on the fifth revision while sipping his third cup of ale. Thranduil had finished his work some time ago and was now lounging in his chair with his feet up on the edge of the table. Bard set his quill down and passed the contract to the elven king. Thranduil took the paper and read it, all the while taking sips of the deep burgundy wine in his glass. Bard wondered at the strange liquid. He had heard tales about the elven wine. It was said one sip could intoxicate a man for a whole week, but no man he knew had ever tried it. Secretly he longed for a sip, but did not dare voice his wish out loud. He turned his gaze back to the elven king who was now staring at him. Bard blushed lightly, lowering his gaze, embarrassed at having been caught gawking. Thranduil extended his hand and held the glass out in front of the Bowman.

“Would you care for a taste? I must warn you it is very strong.”

Bard stared at the glass for a moment then accept it, his fingers grazing the elven king’s softly. He smelt the wine cautiously then took a small sip. It was rich in flavor and very strong. His head swam a little as he handed the glass back. 

“It is quite good, though I think perhaps a little too strong for me.”

Thranduil chuckled softly, “This wine is specially made in Dorwinion. It is much stronger than the drinks you are used to and would easily overpower you should you drink much more than a sip. Elves have a higher tolerance than men or dwarves and require stronger drinks to become even slightly intoxicated.”

Thranduil slid the contract back over to Bard. 

“Everything seems to be in order and is ready to be finalized. In the morning, when your mind is more level, we shall sign it.”

Thranduil lowered his feet and began to stand. Bard was happy they were waiting to sign the contract until morning. The wine had affected him more than he had initially thought and he didn’t think he’d be able to write in a straight line. Bard rose to his feet stumbling slightly. His hand bumping his glass off the table and, with a sharp crash, it broke against the stone floor. Bard stooped down and began picking up the pieces. 

“My lord I am so very sorry. Please forgive my clumsy actions. I will pick it up straight away -ow!” 

Bard drew his hand back sharply and stared as blood began flowing from the tip of his ring finger. The bowman lowered his hand, intending to press his finger to his shirt to stop the bleeding, but was caught by the elven king’s powerful grip. Thranduil had moved so swiftly and quietly the huntsman hadn’t even noticed until the elven king was a mere foot away, bending slightly downwards. Bard stared up at Thranduil questioningly. The elven king’s eyes remained transfixed on the bowman’s hand, the blood slowly creeping down the delicate finger. Thranduil slowly straightened back into a standing position, pulling Bard up along with him. The Bowman continued to look at the elven king with questioning eyes, unsure of what was going on and why. 

“My lord is something wrong?”

Thranduil didn’t answer. He continued to stare at the bowman’s hand. Bard was about to speak again when the elven king slowly lowered his head, placed the bowman’s finger in his mouth, and licked at his wound. Bard’s mind went completely blank, his mouth falling open with shock. Thranduil licked and sucked on the human’s finger, removing every drop of his blood that had spilled from the wound. 

“M-my lord, what” 

The Bowman’’s voice fell silent as the elven king raised his gaze to meet the human’s. Bard’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat, as he stared into the elven king’s eyes now shining a deep, burning, and bloody red.


	3. Elvëa

Bard jerked his hand away and stumbled backwards, his legs colliding with his chair, sending him falling back into it. Thranduil raised his head, letting his hand drop to his side, and looked down at the frightened human. He could see the fear in the Bowman’s eyes as the his heart beat wildly in his chest. 

“W-what are you?”

Thranduil tilted his head to the side pondering the question for a moment. The elven king walked forward, stopping at the foot of the chair. He leaned in slowly, placing his left hand on the top edge of the chair’s back. Bard gripped the armrests tightly, turning his head to the left as the elven king’s face drew closer to his. Thranduil leaned his head in further, his lips brushing the Bowman’s right ear.

“Do not be afraid Bard, I have no intention of killing you. You are far too special to carelessly toss aside. Your blood has brought about an end to my fasting. It is your blood, and yours alone, that I will drink my fill of.”

Thranduil brought his right hand up and gripped the Bowman under the jaw. Bard wrapped his right hand around the elven king’s wrist trying to pull his hand away. Thranduil lowered his head and licked slowly up the man’s neck. He could feel the human’s pulse quicken under his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the pulsing spot and sucked gently. Bard pushed at the elven king’s chest with his free hand, but the body in front of him didn’t move an inch.

"S-stop, please stop this!" 

Thranduil licked Bard's neck again, loving the way it made the man shiver and squirm under his grasp.

"Why should I? You taste so sweet my little dragon slayer. I could spend hours licking every inch of your delectable body, savoring each and every taste, every touch."

Bard gasped as the elven king's tongue brushed a extremely sensitive spot behind his ear.

"N-no! Ah!"

Thranduil turned the human’s head towards him. Their lips brushing each other's softly. 

"You protest against me as if you had a choice. You have no where to run to my little bowman. You are mine for the night. But do not fret, I promise you will be begging me for more before the night is out."

Bard gasped as Thranduil's lips descended upon his own. The elven king's tongue dominated every inch of the human’s mouth. Bard's eyes fluttered softly as his grip on the king's wrist lessened. Thranduil teased the man’s tongue with his own before pulling away. The elven king stared down at the human loving the sight before him. Bard's mouth hung open as he panted for breath; a small trail of saliva running down to his chin. His eyes half closed in a deep lust filled gaze, with a small heated blush forming on his cheeks. 

"So beautiful,"

Thranduil released the man’s jaw and stroked the side of his face. Bard's mind, which had shut down the moment the elven king had kissed him, flared back to life sending him into a panic. With all his might Bard pushed his hands against Thranduil's chest, forcing the elven king back a step. Bard lept to his feet and raced for the door, but was grabbed by the arm and around the waist before he got there. He struggled against the hands holding him but he was no match for the elven king's iron grip. Thranduil dragged the struggling human back over to the table.

 

"Such a wild thing you are. Perhaps I can find a way to calm you down."

Bard yelped loudly as he was hoisted into the air and then laid down onto the round table. Thranduil wrapped one hand around the man’s throat. His strength successfully pinning the human down. Bard gripped the arm holding him, but couldn't remove it. With his free hand, Thranduil picked up the bottle of elven wine and took a drink. Leaning down, the elven king began kissing the human again, spilling the liquid into the Bowman's open mouth. Bard could taste the rich wine pass his lips and settle on his tongue, but refused to swallow. Quick as lightning, Thranduil broke the kiss and covered the human’s mouth and nose with his free hand. Bard squirmed under the elven king’s grasp.

“Swallow and I will let you breath.”

Bard fought long and hard, his lungs screaming for air. Finally, unable to last any longer, he swallowed. Thranduil removed his hand from the human’s face watching as he gasped for air. Bard lay on the table gasping and panting until his breathing was once again under control. All the while Thranduil had stood there watching, his head tilted slightly to the side as he studied the creature trapped in his grasp. Bard looked up at the elven king, he could feel the wine beginning to take effect. His eyelids grew heavier, his breathing slower, and his limbs weaker. Thranduil smiled slyly. Removing his hand from Bard’s neck, he grasped both of his wrists and pinned them on the table above his head. Bard panted lightly, his muscles tensing a fraction, but unable to resist. He was drunk off the wine and completely in the elven king’s power. Thranduil stroked the side of the man’s face, trailing his hand down over his neck, chest, waist, and thigh. Bard shuddered as he felt the elven king’s hand move to stroke his inner thigh. 

“There now, is not this so much better? You fight so needlessly against me. Stop struggling little elvëa, I promise you will enjoy it.” 

Bard’s breathing hitch in his throat as the elven king slowly pushed the man’s trembling legs open and stood in between them. Thranduil leaned forward and kissed the Bowman’s trembling lips, slowly bringing his hand back up the human’s body to rest on his chest. Breaking the kiss, Thranduil tilted Bard’s head to the side, licking and sucking at the man’s neck. Bard gasped loudly, his body trembling from the intense sensations. Thranduil opened his mouth wide and quickly sank his fangs into the crook of the Bowman’s neck. Bard yelped, his back arching upwards, as he felt the sudden sharp pain in his neck. Thranduil wrapped his lips around the wound drinking in every drop. His free hand gripped the human’s jaw, keeping his head turned to the side. Slowly, as he felt his blood leaving his body, Bard relaxed back against the table. His eyes dimmed and his mind grew foggy. Thranduil released Bard’s wrists and began stroking down the human’s side, causing the body beneath him to tremble ever so slightly. Thranduil drank slowly, never wanting to stop, but he could hear the Bowman’s heart beginning to slow and knew he would have to soon. Bard gasped softly as the fangs left his neck, he could feel the elven king’s tongue lapping at the wound. He must have blinked, or possibly blacked out, because one minute he was staring up at the ceiling and the next he saw the elven king’s face smiling down at him. Blood was smeared on his lips, his sharp teeth shining under the candlelight. Bard tried to speak but he couldn’t seem to form any words. His eyes fluttered slightly, he was having a hard time staying conscious. 

“Shh, hush now my little elvëa, there is no need to speak right now. Rest, we will talk once you have regained your strength.” 

Bard wanted to fight, to beg the elven king to let him go, but between the effects of the wine and blood loss, he could do little else than close his eyes and let the darkness take him.


	4. Fragments

Bard drifted lazily in the dark. Slowly his consciousness began to return to him as he opened his eyes. Looking around Bard soon realized he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. Slowly the confused Bowman looked around the large room. He was lying in the middle of a very large circular bed adorn with massive furs and silks. The walls appeared to be carved wood and the floor grey stone tile. Light from the stain glass windows poured onto the floor reflecting shades of reds, blues, greens, and golds. Various objects were littered about the room. A wardrobe, vanity table, floor length mirror, and massive bookcases all carved from wood with their own beautiful design. Bard was intoxicated by the beauty he saw before him and it was only after some time did he see the tall pale figure standing by the door. The Bowman quickly recognized the man to be the elven king Thranduil. It was then that he recalled where he was. He had come to seek the elven king’s council in matters of trade. He remembered them sitting in the library drinking and discussing the contract. The last thing he could recall clearly was taking a sip of the strong elven wine. 

“Oh, my lord Thranduil. I pray I have not caused you any distress. I have very little head for wine and I fear that your elvish drink may have been too much for me. Please forgive me if I have acted distasteful to you in any way.”

The elven king said nothing and continued to observe the hunter before him. Bard shifted uncomfortably under the king’s gaze. His mind swirled in his confused state, trying to piece together his lost memories. 

“M-my lord? Is everything alright? If I have done something amiss won't you please tell me? I would like to atone if that be the case.”

Slowly Thranduil walked towards the bed, stopping just at it’s edge.

“Tell me, do you not remember what happened yesternight?”

“I am afraid I can not recall very much my lord, except coming here to meet with you and, wait, before did you say yesternight? Is it day already?”

Thranduil cocked his head to the side and gazed down softly at the Bowman.

“It is past day and half way through the night. You have been asleep for quite a while. I had not considered the extent of the effect between the wine and mild blood loss. Naturally your body needed time to rest.”

Bard lept out of the bed and onto his feet. His head swam and his heart grew heavy with guilt. How could he sleep the whole day? His children were probably worried sick, not to mention the rest of his people. What must they be thinking? 

“Wait, did you say blood loss? Was I injured? How? Where?”

Bard searched himself up and down but couldn’t see any wound. He looked up at the elven king. His mind was wrought with confusion made worse by the elven king, who was now looking at Bard in the most peculiar way. A small chilling smile playing on his lips. Thranduil chuckled softly shaking his head. 

“I must say you really know how to astound me. Any other mortal would be haunted day and night, but you manage to forget it entirely.”

The elven king laughed softly still shaking his head at the hunter before him. Bard’s stomach turned and his embarrassment grew. He didn’t like to be laughed at, even by a great lord. 

“Excuse me my lord, but I think it is time for me to take my leave.”

Bard stalked towards the door but was suddenly being pushed up against the wall beside it. The elven king wrapped his hand under the human’s jaw, pressing him hard against the wood. Bard grabbed at the hand holding him but couldn’t make it budge. An odd feeling began stirring in the back of his mind. The entire situation felt all too familiar and Bard didn’t like it one bit. The elven king studied the human trapped once again in his grip. He observed each and every emotion that played across the Bowman’s face. He was so close now, so close to remembering the truth. He just need one more gentle push to go spiraling down the path. Thranduil smiled as he turned the human’s head to the side exposing the small set of puncture wounds in his neck. With his head turned Bard was now looking directly into the floor length mirror. He could see the entire scene being played out, but could do nothing to stop it. The elven king leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the hunter’s throat. His bright red eyes meeting Bard’s soft grey ones in the reflected glass. The Bowman’s heart froze and his body shuddered violently as the memories came flooding back. The elven king spread his lips in a wide smile. He could not have imagined a more perfectly petrified face than the one the human now bore.

“Do you remember now, my little elvëa?”

Bard couldn’t answer. His lungs had stopped working the minute the elven king had smiled and revealed his large sharp fangs.


	5. Fall To Temptation

Thranduil was done waiting. His prey had regained his memories and now it was time to make good on a promise he had made. The elven king held the human even closer as he trailed his lips softly up the man’s neck. With their bodies pressed tightly together the elven king nibbled on the Bowman’s ear. Bard could feel the king’s sharp fang softly pressing on his ear. His heart tripled in speed as he let out a small gasp. Thranduil smiled at the sound. It reminded him of the sound a small animal makes when the predator catches it in his claws.

“You may still not remember, but I made you a promise the other night, and now it is time I deliver on my promise. Are you ready my little dragon slayer? I am going to touch you, taste you, and savour every inch of this sun kissed body. I would have you lying naked on my bed, draped in soft lush furs, begging me with those soft eyes. And I would have it now.”

Thranduil walked backwards towards the bed pulling the human back by the throat along with him. Bard struggled as best he could. He clawed at the arm holding him, dug his heels into the ground, but still he was dragged forward. Once at the edge of the bed, the elven king tossed the human down onto the soft furs. Bard let out a small yelp as he flew down onto his back, then began inching backwards as the elven king leaned down towards him. Thranduil followed after the Bowman, crawling over the covers on his hands and knees. Bard tried rolling off to the side, but was caught around the ankle in grip of steel. The elven king yanked, successfully pulling the human down towards him. Quickly he straddled the squirming human’s waist and pinned the man’s arms down above his head with one hand. Bard kicked his legs about wildly, his heart racing out of terror and panic. Thranduil sat there, holding the man’s arms down, and waited. It took longer than he had expected, but the Bowman now lay beneath him completely still. Only his chest moved as he tried to regain his breathing and strength. His face was flush and a fine layer of sweat covered his skin. The elven king, who had remained quiet and still throughout the human’s struggles and screams, leaned down and took hold of the man’s jaw with his free hand. 

“Why fight me dragon slayer? You can not escape me. Give in and accept the pleasure I am offering you.”

Bard’s whole body pulsed with fear and another emotion he absolutely did not want to place.

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

Thranduil gazed into the hunter’s eyes then spoke softly.

“In the beginning I had not intended any of this. I had been avoiding it since the first time I saw you standing amongst the ruins of Dale. I have been this creature, the one that craves your passion and your blood, for almost two thousand years. In all that time I have never even once tasted human blood, but then you came along. I told myself that I was stronger than the hunger and for the most part I was. I had a moment of weakness after the battle when your scent was so strong. That’s why I ran from you. Then, the very next night, you arrived here in my kingdom. Again I resisted the hunger, right up until you cut your finger. Your blood filled the air around me and I was suddenly so very thirsty. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I can not say I am sorry for what I have done or what I will do to you. But I can say that I will never harm you nor will I kill you, and I am deeply sorry you are not enjoying this more.”

Bard gazed up into the elven king’s eyes. He could see no lie in them nor could he say anything in return. The hunter had been expecting an answer more along the lines of ‘because I want too’ or ‘I love to watch you struggle before death’. Thranduil lowered his head and began kissing the bowman’s neck. Bard lay there stunned, still not fully comprehending, as Thranduil’s lips traveled lower. The hand around his jaw moved and was now playing with the ties on his tunic. Slowly Thranduil undid the ties, then slipped his hand under the rough material. Bard gasped sharply as the elven king’s thumb grazed his nipple. 

“W-What are you doing?”

Thranduil laughed lightly, still nipping and sucking at the bowman’s throat. 

“Really now, you can not honestly expect me to believe you to be shy in this area. After all you do have three children do you not? Clearly you’ve had some practice my little elvëa.”

Thranduil trailed his hand lower, tracing every muscle along the way. 

“I-I do have children, and I have lain with a woman, b-but those two things hardly apply here!”

Thranduil momentarily halted his kisses, raising his head to meet the Bowman’s eyes.

“And why not?”

Bard blushed deeply casting his eyes downward. 

“B-because I do not- Well what I mean is that I have never......partaken in such acts with someone of your, well, stature.”

Thranduil smiled down at the Bowman. His face was blazing red and his gaze glued down to the side.

“Now, when you say stature, do you mean to say you have never been intimate with someone of my height?”

Bard shifted under the elven king’s grasp. He did not like where this was going.

“While your assumption of height is true, it is not what I was referring to.”

“Then, could you have meant my being an elf and not a mortal man?”

“Again it is true I have not been, as you say, intimate with an elf I however was not referring to that aspect.”

“Oh, then, perhaps you were referring to my being the same sex as you are?”

Bard blushed deeper shifting uncomfortably under the elven king’s gaze.

“Y-yes.”

Thranduil chuckled lightly. It really was too much fun teasing the Bowman.

“You do not have to worry my little elvëa. My people are knowledgeable in many things, and while we do pick our partners for beauty we care very little of what gender they are.”

Thranduil rolled his hips up against the Bowman’s, drawing a soft and startled cry from the man.

“Ah! D-do not do that!”

Thranduil laughed repeating the movement again.

“And why should I not? Your lips may protest but your body cries out to me for more.”

Bard bit his lip forcefully. He was so ashamed of the sounds his lustful body was making, but at the same time he did not want the elven king to stop. Every touch, every movement sent shock waves rolling through his body. And with each passing moment, Bard was having a hard time thinking up reasons to not give in.


	6. End

Hi readers! Okay so I have some bad news I'm not going to continue with this story. Unfortunately I just don't like where it's going so I'm gonna discontinue it. Good news is I'm gonna rewrite the story because I do still like the idea of Vampire Thranduil. I'm also working on a Vampire Bard story but probably won't be posting that for a while. I will leave this story up for now. If anyone is interested in taking this version and continuing it please message me about it. Thank you all for your time :-)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Of Blood Lust Love And Sex](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516362) by [Saho07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saho07/pseuds/Saho07)




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